If This Isn't Love
by Liesel Love
Summary: hes a cocky SOB and shes a sweet, kinghearted diva they couldnt be more different, but what happens when they start falling for each other? detailed summary inside! randy orton X maria; rated M for language, sexual themes, adult themes; on hiatus for now!
1. Almost

**Title: **If This Isn't Love  
**Rating: **M  
**Summary:** He's the proclaimed trash talking, temperamental, womanizing, SOB of the locker room. She's a sweet, docile, kind-hearted, and somewhat ditzy diva who can't help but fall for the cocky bad boy especially when things are turning sour with her boyfriend, Mike (The Miz). She believes she can somehow get past the whole jackass façade that he portrays and see him for who he truly is--but even _she_'ll be surprised by the skeletons he keeps in his closet, all the while coming to terms with her own. randyXmaria pairing mostly; rated M for sexual content, language, some drug use, the nature of Maria's past, attempted rape, suicidal reference and all the other exciting crap that makes this worth reading lol. please read and review  
**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing in this fanfic. The characters, places, hotels, clothing brands, etc. all belong to their respective owners. The only things I own are the original plot of the story as well as the fictional female clothing brand Deliciouz Kouture.

**Note to Reader: **I changed some dates, championship holdings, brand placing, and other minor details to make this work the way I wanted. Please R&R!!!

**Character Archive**: Evan Bourne (Matthew Korklan); Triple H (Paul Levesque); Alicia Fox (Victoria Crawford); The Miz (Mike Mizanin)

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**Chapter One**

"Maria, come on! You've been in the bathroom for nearly a half-fucking-hour," Matthew shouted as he pounded on the bathroom door. Maria rolled her eyes as she drew another perfectly straight black line under her left eye with her eyeliner, completely ignoring her friend. As much as she loved him, she wouldn't leave the bathroom until she was completely finished getting ready. She couldn't just leave the room looking like a half-put-together slob. Nope, she had to look just perfect.

It was a quarter past noon, and in a few hours, they'd all be heading down to the Izod Center for the night's weekly edition of Monday Night Raw, here in New Jersey. Not only would Maria have to see her maybe-maybe-not boyfriend Mike (whom she'd successfully avoided for the past three days) but she had no choice but to go along with the bullshitted storyline Vince and the rest of the writers put together that not only exploited the fallout between the two of them in their real life relationship, but it made _her_ seem like the unfaithful one when it was the complete opposite. Sometimes, it really pissed Maria off how insensitive "the suits" could all be towards something so personal but she knew they didn't care about her feelings or anyone elses for that matter. If she wanted that big fat paycheck next week she'd have no choice but to simply deal with it.

"Maria! Seriously, get the fuck out of there. I need to go unless you want me to piss on your carpet!" she heard Matthew yell again. God, he was so overdramatic. Maria fluffed her bouncy red curls a few more times before swinging the door wide open and doing a model-like pose.

"How do I look?" she asked innocently, batting her mascara covered eyelashes at him in a flirty gesture.

"Pretty, like you usually do," he said, doing that squirmy dance people did when they had to go bad. "Now can you let me through before my dick fucking explodes from all this pent up pressure?"

Matthew shoved her out the way and slammed the door shut behind him. Maria just giggled.

"Ooh, la la," Maria's other best friend and roommate, Victoria, commented as Maria struck a few more exaggerated poses. "Looks like someone's trying to look extra sexy today. Might I ask who for?"

"So, I can't just look nice without you thinking it's to impress someone?" Maria scoffed, placing her hand over her heart in a show of mock hurt. She had on a frilly white blouse, light colored super skinny jeans, and white alligator skin knee high boots.

"And here I thought you guys knew so much about me."

"We do," Matthew stated, as he walked casually out from the bathroom. He picked up the remote off the ground and hopped onto the king sized bed along with Victoria and began flipping through channels. "We all know the answer to that question but I don't think you want to hear the truth. Am I right?"

Maria scowled and stuck her tongue out at them. Sometimes, it irked her how well Matthew and Victoria really did know her. If she were being honest with herself, she'd admit that she wanted to look extra fly just incase she ran into Mike before the show—but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of admitting that. Nope, she had too much pride for that.

"Oh, shut up. Both of you know absolutely nothing," Maria said as she walked around the bed and bent down to pick up her favorite white and gold Miu Miu purse off the floor.

"Girl, you really need to get an ass," Victoria observed, laughing alongside Matthew, who was holding his sides and laughing at the unexpected remark.

"Now you know I love you but sweetie, your booty is f-l-a-t. Dang, Cena was right last week—you've got no booty whatsoever." Maria felt her cheeks heat up as she stared her supposed-friends down. She knew they were just joking but that comment hit a sore spot. Especially since John Cena called her out about it while they were in the ring last week (in Chicago, her _hometown_ of all places)_. In front of 10000 live fans_ _and millions more watching at home. _She didn't hold it against John, being that he was just reciting what had been in the script but now everybody had something smart to say about her butt, or lack thereof.

"Whatever. I'm leaving," Maria said smugly, holding her head up high as she made her way over towards the door.

"Aw, come on Maria. We were just teasing," Matthew said, still grinning. He didn't mean to hurt Maria's feelings, he really didn't. But it was just too funny and Maria always got mad when people made little jokes about her. But he thought she looked super adorable when she was mad so he couldn't help it. Besides, he personally liked her butt—it wasn't too big but it wasn't too small either. It was perfect, especially considering her petite frame.

"Yeah, Boopie," Victoria said, calling Maria by the nickname everyone in the lockerroom had given her. "We were joking. No homo, but you have a nice little butt." That caused her and Matthew to start laughing again and Maria tried her hardest not to give in and laugh along with them.

"I know, but I'm still leaving either way." Maria said, letting a small smile touch her lips.

"Where are you going?" Victoria asked as she took the remote from Matthew and flipped through channels on the widescreen plasma TV.

"Umm," Maria hesitated. She didn't even know herself. She just wanted to go _out_, you know? Instead of being cooped up in the hotel room. "I don't know. But I'll meet you both at the arena so don't wait up." She gave a wave to the both of them before shutting the door behind herself and strolling down the hallway in her usual carefree manner.

As she were about to round the corner, she bumped into no other than Miss Queen Bitch herself, Maryse, and her drone Kelly. For as long as she could remember, Maryse had never liked her. Why, she didn't know but she was usually the target of Maryse's harsh jokes and taunts in the divas' locker-room. In her naturally kind manner she would always try to befriend her but Maryse pushed her away.

"I'm so sorry," Maria said, holding out a hand to help Maryse up (who had fallen) but Maryse batted it away as if it were a perky fly. Instead, she took Kelly's hand to help her get up.

"Watch where you're going whore," Kelly said, folding her arms against her ample chest. She looked Maria up and down before flipping her pin-straight blond hair over her shoulder and nodding towards her partner.

"My sentiments exactly," Maryse said as she began a rant in French. Maria wasn't sure what she said but she was sure it wasn't anything nice.

"Besides, you wouldn't want to hurt the little one, now would you?" Maryse said callously, as she giggled with Kelly at their inside joke. _Little what?_ Maria thought as they laughed. Both Kelly and Maryse purposefully bumped in to Maria, nearly knocking her down, before resuming on their way back down the hallway.

_God, I really need to check the hotel before renting a room_. Maria thought to herself as she slipped on her big tortoiseshell sunglasses and walked into the open elevator. Being stuck with the Plastics, as Maria referred to them, was bad enough but knowing she was sharing the same hotel with them was too close for comfort. But at least she wouldn't be involved in tomorrow's house show in Buffalo, New York so when Maryse and Kelly left, she could be alone in peaceful solitude once more. She was wrapped up in her thoughts as she pressed the button for lobby and hummed along with the elevator music.

When she reached the lobby, Maria made a sharp left around the corner, jogged down two flighst of stairs, and walked along a long plush carpeted hallway before coming to a big steel door that read VIP Smoking Lounge. She took out the special key card that hotel staff had given her, swiped it through the reader, and opened the heavy metal door. Inside, the room was dimly lit with leather couches pushed up against the walls and various two-person tables set up in the middle. There was a bar to one side (sans bartender) and a black baby grand piano on the other. Soft Jazz music wafted through the air and the room was otherwise empty except for a lone person sitting at one of the tables with their head hanging down—seemingly in defeat. The room was positively shrouded in smoke and Maria noted that all the smoke present seemed to be emanating from that one person.

Maria slid off her glasses and took a few steps closer to the person to make sure they were alright. She couldn't help it; she was just that kind of person. The closer she got the more familiar the man sitting dolefully became. It wasn't long before Maria fully recognized the person—what, with his fitted black Hollister tee (that outlined and defined his muscular chest, flat abs, biceps, triceps, and every other "eps" he had), stonewash jeans, and perpetually pensive expression. It was none other than Randy Orton—Mr. Playboy, in the flesh.

"Randy? Uh, are you okay?" Maria asked as she put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her but Maria wasn't sure if he was really seeing her. His eyes seemed to be glazed over and the whites of his eyes were completely bloodshot. He seemed way too far gone, Maria noted as she glanced at the dozens of half-smoked Marlboros that covered the floor around his feet.

"Randy? It's me Maria," she tried again, this time placing both hands on his shoulder and giving him a slight shake. He blinked a few times, as if finally taking in his surroundings. His eyes slowly met hers and for a moment, Maria sense the feeling of helplessness in them. But soon enough that moment of vulnerability was gone as Randy's usual intimidating glare took its place.

"Oh, um," Maria stammered as she quickly let go of his shoulders and held her hands to her chest. She would never say it but she felt so inferior next to Randy now. He always had an air of confidence about him, which was actually one of his most attractive attributes, but the way he looked at her now made her feel as if she were two inches tall and mentally incompetent—but then again, thanks to Vince and the Creative Team, that's how most people perceived her.

About two years ago, she remembered she'd complimented him about his pretty aqua blue eyes. She'd said they were as blue and clear as the open ocean, which had made him laugh. She loved his laugh and told him he didn't laugh often enough. When he laughed, it was totally genuine and just warmed your heart when you heard it. That was one of his few good days when he didn't haves such an attitude. It was days like that which you could really see what an amazing person he was. Only now it seemed like the ocean had iced over and there wasn't a hint of humor on his handsome face.

"What the hell do you want?" Randy sneered, cutting his eyes at her as he took another drag on the burning cigarette in his hand. Whatever trance he had been in moments ago was broken and he was back to being his usual rude self.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see if you were...um, alright?" Maria said quietly. She couldn't look him in the eyes. No, his gaze was too intense. Instead, she looked down at the table.

"I'm...fine," Randy said, though he didn't sound too sure of himself. He took another hit of his cig before throwing it to the ground and burying his head in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Maria asked hopefully. She wasn't sure why she wanted to know what was bothering him so much but she pushed that thought aside. She wanted to help him with whatever was bothering him; She really did.

"Why the fuck would I want to talk about it with _you_ of all people?" he said callously. Maria snuck a peek, though she wished she hadn't, as he stared her down with ruthless, criticizing eyes.

"Because I can help—" she began but Randy cut her off.

"You can't help me. It's because of bitches like you that I'm pissed the hell off right now so just do yourself a favor and fuck off," he said, dismissing her. He opened up another pack of cigarettes and lit a new one.

"Fine, whatever. I was just trying to be nice," Maria said, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. She knew she shouldn't cry over a jackass like Randy Orton but she couldn't help it. She stomped to the other side of the room—as far away from Orton as she could get—and lit a cigarette with shaky hands. She held it up to her nose, inhaling deeply, before putting it to her lips and taking a drag. She hated the fact that she had begun the nasty habit of smoking but was relieved because of the almost instantaneous relief she felt.

To think she almost agreed to sit and chat with Randy Orton about his problems. Ha, maybe it was a good thing he dismissed her. The brutal truth was that they were in two separate leagues so she had no idea what came over her in thinking she could talk to someone like him who'd never accept her help or advice. Acting in the ring was one thing but outside the ring, it was a totally different ball game. But soon enough, she'd be mellow enough to forget about Vince and the WWE, Randy Orton, Maryse, and just about every other thing that pissed her off.

At least, that's what she hoped.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Randy watched her walk away and for a moment, he almost called out to her to apologize.

_Almost. _

Though what got to him was how genuinely upset he seemed to have made Maria. He could tell she was trying to hide it, but he could hear her crying softly as she quietly smoked her cigarette. He didn't even know she smoked because it was completely unlike her. He really hated seeing that she was all alone and crying because of him. After all she had done nothing to warrent his going off on her. Contrary to popular belief, Randy really wasn't as cold and heartless as his character portrayed. When he was pissed off, everyone knew how cruel he could be with his words but he didn't mean it—at least, he didn't mean it completely. Sure, the _message_ behind the words is what he meant but the words and tone he would use were just to make people leave him alone so he could think in peace. That's why those who knew him knew not to totally take everything he said to heart. But what he'd done to Maria he knew she didn't deserve. Not at all.

He really didn't want her to cry but he figured it would just take too much effort to correct his wrongdoings. Women were too complicated and after all, it was seemingly innocent yet lying and deceitful women that got him into the predicament that he was in now.

Yeah, it would take _way_ too much effort.

The best thing he could do now was just to leave her alone. She'd get over it eventually.

He got up and threw his final cigarette on the nearest ashtray. He couldn't exactly say tearing through three and a half packs of Marlboros had eased his restless mind but they had helped mellow him out some. Now he felt extremely tired and he just wanted to chill out for a few hours before heading down to the Izod Center. Yup, that was a perfect plan.

As he walked towards the door, he looked over towards Maria in the corner of his eye. His gaze met hers for a moment before she turned her face away. He wished he hadn't bothered looking over at her because seeing her made him feel even worse. Her cheeks were wet with tears and whatever makeup she had applied earlier was running down her face. She looked so lost and hurt and it pained his heart to see that. He let out a breath as he opened the door and left.

He tried to convince himself that just leaving was the best he could do. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had. He leaned against the door once he shut it and rubbed his temples. He wasn't high enough to even believe his bullshit lies but he had no choice.

He had other more important and urgent matters to deal with.

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**Okay so what did you guys think of that? I know y****ou guys are probably bored now because of the lack of major action right? Don't worry, it's coming soon. That was my first ever fanfic and I'm excited about it because I know exactly where this is going to lead up to. I'll update as soon as I can, as long as I don't lose my inspiration for this story LOL. I mean, I love love LOVE Randy Orton and Maria is one of my favorite divas so I've always thought this could work out. I didn't want to base the characters solely off their storyline portrayal because I wanted this to seem real and flow naturally (because if I had, true wrestling fans would know my characters would act totally differently than how they are in this fanfic). Also, I'll try to tie this in with events that are happening in real life as much as possible. Either way it's trial and error from here so wish me luck! Please read and review people!**


	2. Late To The Arena

**Rating: **M (for sexual themes, language, drug reference, suicide reference, and all the other crap that makes this worth reading LOL)  
**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing in this fanfic. The characters, places, hotels, clothing brands, etc. all belong to their respective owners. The only things I own are the original plot of the story as well as the fictional female clothing brand Deliciouz Kouture.

**Note to Reader: **I changed some dates, championship holdings, brand placing, and other minor details to make this work the way I wanted. Please R&R!!!

______________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter Two**

Maria's eyes fluttered open as she slowly lifted her head from the table. _Ah, I must have fallen asleep,_ Maria thought as she wiped the trail of drool from the corner of her mouth and stretched. She felt well rested and much more alert than she'd been before. She searched around in her purse and pulled out her Pretti'NPink Deliciouz Kouture compact mirror. What she saw, however, nearly gave her a heart attack.

The side of her face that had been pressed against the hard, wooden table was stiff and red and her hair was in a tangled mess atop her head. Her face was stained with the makeup she'd cried off and her eyes were still puffy and red. The ash from the cigarette that she'd been smoking earlier had stained her white top profusely and it would cost her at least $300 or more to get the expensive silk top cleaned. It was a complete 360 from the flawless façade she usually kept up and that made her mad.

_Boiling _mad.

_This is all Randy's fault. _She thought heatedly. _Stupid, stupid Randy!_

God, the next time she saw him—!

She looked around the Lounge for him, but there was no trace of Randy ever having been there. His packs of half-smoked cigs that he'd tossed to the ground were all cleaned up and she wasn't even the only one there anymore. There were a few other couples and such sitting in various areas throughout the room and the bartender that had been previously MIA was back, mixing drinks for whoever wanted one. A woman dressed in a beautiful yet simple black slip dress was at the far end of the room playing a dark, somber piece on the piano that reflected Maria's mood entirely.

For a moment, she wondered if she'd really had that encounter with Randy. But when she looked back at her tear-streaked face in the mirror, she was beyond a doubt that it was true. It had not been a dream and Randy really_ had _made her cry. Nobody seemed to have noticed her or if they had, they were ignoring her—and thank goodness too. The last thing Maria needed was to be ambushed by adoring fans while she looked like The Bride of Frankenstein. She inconspicuously slipped on her big shades and glanced at her 24-carat gold Cartier watch.

"Holy mother-fucking shit!" Maria gasped, which wasn't exactly a good idea as heads turned in her direction to see what the matter was—especially when she wanted to remain incognito. She smiled nervously and quickly gathered her things before rushing away from the table and out the door.

"Shit," she muttered. "Shit, shit, shit!" It was almost half past seven and she should have arrived at the arena more than an hour ago. She let out a breath as she sank to the floor. Vince was going to_ kill _her. No—he was going to slit her throat, pour salt into her wound, pour gasoline on her incapacitated corpse, light it on fire, throw her remains in a ditch, and simply _bury_ her. He was counting on her big time tonight! Especially being that the first event of the night was supposed to be her exclusive interview with Shawn Michaels and Paul in the ring. And she would still have to go through wardrobe and makeup and that would take at least half an hour alone.

And before she could even start worrying about all that she still needed to actually _get _to the arena first, which she had absolutely no idea how or how long it would take. Even worse was now she remembered Matthew and Victoria had taken their rental car their so she no longer had any means of transportation.

"I am _so_ freaking screwed," Maria moaned as she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Today was just one of those days when she wished she hadn't gotten out of bed and called in sick. Not that it would have gotten her out of tonight's show, but nonetheless. It had been totally crappy so far and no doubt would it get even worse once she got to the arena.

There wasn't anything she could do but get off the floor and run to the nearest ladies room to at least clean up her makeup before she tried to find a way to leave. She wiped her face with a paper towel and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

_Ughhh_, Maria thought. She simply hated the way she looked without makeup. Her face seemed so much younger and tired looking. Not that looking younger was bad, but she just didn't look like herself, you know? Without all her makeup, she wasn't the Maria people expected to see on TV or on the covers of Playboy who was so young, preppy and perfect looking. She looked like any other average twenty seven year old woman and she wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"God, I'm getting so_ old_," Maria sighed as she stared into the mirror. But, of course, it was impossible control one's aging. So as long as she kept up her healthy appearance, exercised regularly, and her boobs were perky, she could live with the prospect of getting older.

She put on her glasses on and made her way to the lobby. Luckily, it was fairly empty other than for the manager behind the desk and a family of four who had an array of suitcases and bags about them. They were wrapped up in their own problems so they paid no attention to her.

"Excuse me," Maria began as she approached the middle aged woman behind the front desk. "Can you tell me how long it will take to get to the Izod Center from here?"

The woman glared at her and for a moment, Maria thought she could see past her custom-made, ultra-tinted Gucci sunglasses and into her very soul—yeah, her glare was _that_ intense. But she doubted it; with the money she spent on the shades, no one could see past them. She'd made sure of it. The woman typed something in to her computer and then faced Maria again, with the same look of disdain. "It should take about twenty five minutes, Miss. Should I call a cab for you?"

"Yes, please," Maria said as the woman picked up the phone and called the hotel's cab rental service. Well, a cab didn't exactly equate to the limos and luxury cars she was so used to traveling in but now was not the time to complain. All that was on her mind was to get to the arena before hell It felt like forever to Maria before the lady said the magical words of "The cab's waiting outside for you, Miss."

"Thanks," Maria called as she ran out the lobby, opened the cab door and jumped in, in one fluid movement. Normally, she would have been amazed at such athleticism but there was no time now for petty matters. She had bigger fish to fry.

"I need to get to the Izod Center," Maria said quickly to the Indian Cab driver. "And please hurry."

_________________________________________________________________________________

"Where the hell is Maria?" was the question that everyone backstage kept fretting about.

Randy tried his hardest to just ignore it all, especially when he had other things on his mind, but he couldn't even if he wanted to. Maria, Paul, and Shawn were supposed to take part in an interview at the very beginning of the show, of which he was scripted to invade. They'd all have a bit of a quarrel over the WWE championship defense at Summer Slam before Stephanie McMahon would come out proposing a non-title 2-on-1 handicap match for them at the end of the night. And in addition to that, Randy remembered she and Mike were supposed to have something going on towards the middle of the show.

But of _course _Maria would show up late. It was just something everyone had gotten used to. Randy only hoped she'd show face before it was too late because time was ticking away.

"I'm so sorry, everyone. I knew I shouldn't have let her go off by herself," Victoria kept apologizing backstage. Randy could tell she felt bad, especially since everyone knew Vince specifically told her to stay with Maria for tonight's show. She played a big part of it and the last thing he had wanted was for this to happen.

"What's up, man?" John said, barging into Randy's dressing room. John was his usual relaxed self, even in the midst of pandemonium and uncertainty. Randy was sure he was stressed too—he _had_ to be. Only, John would never show it. He was always so cheery and jolly that you'd never know when something was eating at him.

Which was pretty much the opposite of Randy since he always made sure it was known when he was pissed off or angry.

"Ah, just one more month till Summer Slam and this title will be back around my waist where it belongs," John said, picking up Randy's WWE Champion belt off the dresser and spinning the center logo. Ah, he sure did miss being champion. "Dude, you _do_ know you're only main eventing because of _me_, right?"

"No. But what I _do_ know is that your head as well as your ego is too far up your ass," Randy joked. "But we both don't know that yet. It's whatever Vince decides, man," Randy said as he pulled on his knee pads before lacing up his boots. "As much as you don't deserve it, I wouldn't be surprised though. It's been a while and they probably want a face to become champion again. You know, to sit well with the fans—especially the younger crowd."

"That reminds me," John said as he sat the belt back down and straddled one of the empty chairs in the room. "You know, I'm still waiting on the day they'll decide to make you a face again. Ever since you turned heel, they've dug you a hole so deep I'll be damned if they ever manage to get your sorry ass out. For the longest now, it's been 'the sadistic, heartless, ill-mannered_ Randy Orton_', even if you do play it well."

"Yeah, I know," Randy chuckled. John was right. But it didn't really bother him as much as others backstage thought it did. He liked playing the bad guy, especially when he did it so well.

"Knock, knock," a sultry voice called as a blond head poked into the room. "Everyone decent in here?"

"No, Randal's naked and trying to seduce me. Sheesh, when will he realize that I like _females_? As in tits and vaginas not penis and anuses. The guy just won't quit," John called back out, earning him a hard hit to the back of the head. He laughed and Randy just shook his head at his crazy friend.

Maryse poked her head into the room and smiled. John was laughing heartily and Randy had that über-adorable look he made when he was slightly ticked off. Mmm, yeah, she _definitely _liked it when he was ticked off.

"Aw, John, you lied to me," Maryse said, playing along, as she came into the room and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at Randy and she knew he was purposefully avoiding her gaze. That was alright for now; she had something in store for him once John left.

"I didn't lie—it's true. Behind closed doors Randy's a different man. I'm only glad you came when you did or who knows what would have happened to me," John said, nudging Randy with his elbow.

"You think you're funny, right?" Randy said, rolling his eyes, and playfully pushing him back. "Does this _amuse_ you?"

"More than you know."

"Oh, I don't believe you, anyway. I hope you haven't forgotten about Randy's _wife_ and _daughter_," Maryse emphasized, all the while still hoping to capture Randy's gaze. As she'd hoped, he looked up—with that oh so adorable scowl—and met her eyes. He didn't dare look away. Neither did she.

"Oh, I haven't," John said, stretching as he got up. "I gotta go, though, but I'll catch you later, Orton," John said, giving Randy some dap before turning to give Maryse a peck on the cheek and a hug. Maryse smiled deviously as she continued to lock eyes with Randy while they hugged but all it earned her from Randy was a shake of his head. Once John left, she promptly locked the door and walked up to Randy, who was now glaring at her.

"Randy, baby, we need to talk," Maryse whispered, as an even bigger smile crept upon her face.

"No _you_ need to talk," Randy clarified, snatching his arm away when she tried to grab hold of it. "All I'm doing is listening. And you need to make it quick, because I'm on in twenty."

"Fine, if that's how you want it," Maryse said in a sing-songy voice. "Because I have good news for you—and I have bad news." He turned to face her, giving the notion that he was all ears for whatever bullshit excuses she had yet to pull out.

She managed to straddle his lap and wrap her long, lithe arms around his neck. She smiled devilishly but Randy didn't smile back-_-but_ he didn't push her off either so that counted for _something_ right?

"But first, I need you to make me a promise," she said, flipping her platinum hair over her shoulder to reveal her bare neck and a good portion of her chest, which was only covered by her flimsy ring costume.

"What," Randy said harshly, but Maryse saw his eyes drop from her eyes to her ample chest and then back to her eyes.

_Yeah,_ Maryse thought. _I have him right where I want him._

_________________________________________________________________________________

"Maria!" a female voice called as Maria hurriedly applied her makeup in her dressing room. She tried to ignore it because she simply had no time to waste. The on-set makeup artists told her that she'd arrived too late for them to take her, as they were already tending to their final superstars. Maria had the options of either a) waiting for a possible last-minute opening or b) hauling her ass to the locker-room and taking care of her makeup herself. She had no choice but to pick the latter.

When she'd arrived at the arena, it was 8:15 on the dot. She would have made it even sooner but there was serious traffic on the parkway and they spent at least fifteen more minutes than they'd expected on the road. Not to mention that the cab driver figured out who she was and she had to spend additional time giving him an autograph for his son as well as himself. Good news for her, she'd managed to avoid Mr. McMahon thus far but she was sure she'd get his wrath before the night was over.

"Maria, it's me Linda. May I come in?" the person called again.

"Give me a minute," Maria said, re-adjusting her strapless, cocoa-brown Vera Wang ruched mini dress. She quickly slipped on her four inch gold Michael Kors heels and began using her flat iron to re-straighten her hair which had gotten slightly frizzy, due to the humidity in the dressing room.

"Come in," Maria called, as she quickly ran the flat iron through individual sections of her hair. Although she still wished she could have been taken by one of the makeup artists, she admired her handiwork. She didn't look half bad, if she did say so herself.

The door handle twisted and in came an immaculately dressed Linda McMahon. Maria gulped as she concentrated on her hair but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sure, Linda was easily the friendliest and kindest McMahon but she could be cold and hard when she wanted to be—especially when something like this happens.

"Maria," Linda sighed, as she folded her arms across her chest. "I'm glad that you managed to make it here safely tonight." She said the words slowly to put emphasis that she was well informed of Maria's tardiness yet again.

"I'm so sorry, Linda. I really, really am," Maria apologized as she shut off the iron and ran her fingers through her hair. Okay, now she was ready—and with 15 minutes to spare before she needed to go on.

"Something came up and I lost track of time. I'm so, so sorry and I'll make it up to you all, I promise." Maria knew better than to say that she'd fallen asleep, thus making her arrive late. There was no sympathy for that type of excuse. She had to play her cards just right.

"It's okay and I'm sure you did. My husband had some last-minute business to attend to so he wanted me to let you know that he wished to speak with you in his office at the end of tonight's show."

"Oh, okay," Maria said. Her heart sank to her stomach. This was bad.

"Good, so I'll see you later on backstage," Linda smiled. Maria thought she had a pretty smile. You would never have guessed that someone like her was already a grandmother. She was so healthy and young looking. Maria briefly wondered what creams and lotions she used to keep up her appearance and if she'd ever used botox...

"And don't worry; I don't think the situation is too bad with Vince. You know I'll put in a good word for you," She said, squeezing her hand to reassure her. Maria gave a small smile but she wasn't reassured in the least.

They both headed out the room before going their separate ways. Linda had other business to take care of before the show began while Maria needed to get on stage.

Stage heads gave the signal that they'd be on in six minutes and it finally dawned on Maria how unprepared she was. She'd heard Jerry the King and Michael Cole begin their pre-commentary and the fans were already going wild. She'd be on soon enough, and quite frankly, she still wasn't totally sure of her lines, and her eyeliner was beginning to smudge, she began to feel like a total fatty in her skin-tight dress, her heels were killing her feet and—

"Ow," Maria yelped as she walked straight into a wall. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't even paid attention where she was going. She'd expected to hit the ground but she never did. The wall's arms encircled her and kept her from falling. The wall's arms were very warm, muscular, and protective. Only she noticed the wall's very distinctive sleeve tattoos and looked up, only to realize it wasn't a wall at all.

It was the _devil_, himself, in the flesh: Randal Keith Orton.

"Did you hear me?" Randy said, waving a hand in her face in an attempt to snap her out of la-la land.

"Huh?" Maria said distortedly. She felt so comfortable in his strong arms that for a moment, she didn't want him to let go. But that was before her common sense started kicking in to tell her that he was the enemy and she needed to stop fantasizing about him.

"I said, you really need to watch where you're going. One day you might bump into the wrong person and they may not be as kind to help you up as I am," he said as he put her gently to the ground. He smirked, and Maria turned beet red.

"Oh, shut up," she said, flipping her hair and cutting her eyes at him. _His eyes are so pretty_, Maria couldn't help but think despite herself. They were so lightly colored (a unique blend of aqua blue and gray) that they appeared to be endless. One could easily get lost in them.

_Damn it! _Maria mentally screamed at herself. _You'll be on any minute now and the last thing you need to do is daydream about this asshole's eyes._

"Well, _excuse _me for doing something nice for once and stopping you from busting your ass," Randy said shaking his head. "What you should be doing is thanking me instead of acting like a total bitch."

He didn't understand why she had such a foul attitude. He had actually been planning to apologize to her the next time he caught up with her backstage because his conscience was still eating at him. But this wasn't how he pictured meeting up with her and the way she acted towards him now made him wonder why he had ever seriously considered apologizing. After all, he _never_ apologized. It just wasn't _him_. He just expected people to get over themselves and they usually did. He didn't know why this woman standing in front of him would have made him change his ways and do something he normally would not have.

_Well, she does look ridiculously hot_, Randy thought smugly to himself. _But then again, so do all our divas so why the hell am I so concerned with this ungrateful bitch?_

"_Thank_ you, now get the hell out my way," Maria said, snapping Randy out of his thoughts.

"Well that's the last time I'll ever try to be a Good Samaritan," Randy said, running his hand through his short dark hair. "See you out in the ring, _Maria_." He purposefully emphasized her name to piss her off.

"Whatever, jackass," Maria retorted, as she skipped out onto the stage as the opening chords of her entrance song, "With Legs Like That" by Zebrahead blared throughout the arena.

_I can do this_, Maria thought as she slapped hands with a few fans as she made her way down the ramp. _Just don't think about Orton and everything will be fine._

Of course, it's always easier said than done.

*** * ***

"I'm dead," Maria moaned as she buried her head in her hands. Raw had been over for forty minutes now and she was waiting on Mr. McMahon outside his office.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine," Victoria said, rubbing her friend's back as she tried to console her.

"Yeah, you didn't do _that_ bad," Matthew joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. The joke did nothing to calm nerves. In fact, it did the opposite as Maria finally broke down crying. Victoria glared at Matthew as he mouthed an "Oops."

Her air-time with Shawn and Paul didn't go anything like she'd planned. When it was just her and them, she was doing just fine. She'd remembered all her lines and she was even happy at the responses she was getting from the crowd. However, when Randy showed up like he was supposed to, everything went downhill. She'd forgotten what she was supposed to say and stuttered like an idiot, causing the crowd to burst into laughter multiple times. DX and Randy even had to improvise and try and get her going again by saying things they hoped would get her back on track but that was also relevant to the storyline at hand. Maria was sure it had to be the way Randy had been staring at her whilst in the ring that made her act like a total fool. Though as much as she'd like to, she couldn't very well blame it on him, after all, he was _supposed _to stare at her as if he would do something to quell the smart remarks she were supposed to make. But Maria couldn't help but feel as if the way he stared at her had nothing to do with the storyline, but was rather something much more personal. She couldn't identify whether it was anger, curiosity, lust, boredom, hatred, disdain, or simply just plain anger again that she saw in his eyes. Her mind was so focused on his penetrative stare that she'd forgotten where she was, what she was supposed to be doing, and the lines that she was supposed to recite.

And it didn't end there, either; her cut scene with Mike was just as bad as she knew it was going to be. He totally thrashed her and her seemingly lack of intelligence. They got into this heated argument before he came out of nowhere pulling a DDT on her. Of course, it was all scripted but it made her look like the bad one in their on-screen relationship. And he used way too much force when doing the move because her neck was still sore from the impact against the ground.

"I'm so screwed," Maria babbled, as she turned and began to cry on Matthew's shoulder. He didn't mind, even if she was getting his tee shirt soaked with tears. He really wanted to make her feel better and convince her nothing was going to happen to her.

"You'll be fine," Victoria and Matthew repeated for the fiftieth time.

"I'm so sorry for doing this," Maria said, as she lifted her head from Matthew's shoulder and wiped at her tears.

"It's a'ight, girl," Victoria said, with a smile. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Hey, babe," Mike said, as he casually strolled up to them and put his arm around Maria. He seemed oblivious to the fact that she was crying and continued as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, Mikey," Maria said as she nervously returned the kiss he planted on her lips. She knew something was up, but she couldn't very well call him out right then in front of her friends. No, they had to be alone before she could ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. All the while, Victoria and Matthew looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"Hey, so you guys can leave now, if you're ready. I'm here now for my girl so there's no reason why you guys should wait up. Don't worry, I'll get her home safely," Mike said, as he willed Maria's loser friends to leave.

"Yeah, he's right, you guys," Maria agreed quietly as she looked down to the ground. "You guys don't need to wait around for me."

"Are you sure?" Matthew asked, as he glared at Mike. He never liked Mike and he never understood why Maria would settle for a loser like him. Something about him was fishy and Matthew didn't fully trust him with his friend. But he had no tangible evidence or reason to hate him so he'd always kept his prejudice to himself.

"Totally," Maria said, giving them a feeble smile. They all hugged and said their goodbyes before Victoria and Matthew went to go grab their stuff before leaving.

"We need to talk," Mike said, letting go of Maria as he looked down at her when her friends were no longer in sight. "When you're done with whatever you need to do, meet me at the SanRidge Hotel. Find your own way there because I'm out."

"Mike, no wait--" Maria started to say but she was silenced by a sudden blow to the jaw. She stumbled back and cluthed her mouth, in fear that he may have broken it. Knowing him and his temper, he wouldn't give a damn if he did and just tell her to quit whining like a bitch and take it like a man.

"I'm fucking serious! Meet me at the hotel the minute you're done with you're shit here." That was all he said before leaving Maria by herself as he strutted away. He didn't even look back at her, not once.

_________________________________________________________________________________

_~meanwhile in Mr. McMahon's office~_

"Well, as I've said before Maryse, congratulations," Vince said with a smile as he shook his client's hand. "I have no problems giving you time off from inside the ring. And I'm sure we can very well find some kind of backstage assignment for you if you say you don't want the whole nine months off. I'm sure Maria would be more than happy to let you take her place as an exclusive backstage reporter for a while. Besides, I was looking to get her some more in-ring time, so I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Thank you, Mr. McMahon," Maryse said, purposely laying her adorable French accent on thick, as she got up from her seat.

"No, problem and hopefully I'll see you later this week. And on your way out, if you see Maria please tell her to come in."

"I will," Maryse said sweetly as she exited the office. _Fat chance._

As Maryse passed Maria she purposely bumped into her.

"Watch where you're going bitch," she threw over her shoulder. As she'd anticipated, Maria didn't say anything. She looked over her shoulder and Maryse could see her walking into Mr. McMahon's office, with her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Not that she cared. The bitch deserved what was coming to her. Always pretending to be so sweet and innocent. Ha, what a lie. She was probably like all those other innocent-yet-totally-skanky divas that she had to deal with on a total basis. You know; the type of girls who seem so innocent and sweet on te outside but behind closed doors they're total whores who've probably slept with half the entire roster. Including the guys who are off limits--aka the taken men.

Maryse, rounded a corner, heading for Randy's locker room. Ah, that man's name alone had already relieved her of some of her troubles. Her plan had worked and like the'd expected, he'd told her to meet her there and he'd drive her home after the show. Ah men, how _weak_ they were. As much as he'd tried to make her think he hated her, just one touch and he was already putty in her hands within seconds.

_Men; they were all the same._

Then thoughts of Maria slowly started drifting back to mind.

Maryse snorted. Well, as long as that stank-ho stayed away from her man, it was all good. Because one a bitch encroaches upon her territory, there will most definately be hell to pay.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Do you think we should have left Maria with that asshole?" Matthew said, as he drove down the parkway with Victoria in the passenger seat.

"No," Victoria said truthfully as she looked back at Matt. It was dark, just a little past midnight, and she could barely make out his form in the darkness "But Maria's a grown ass woman and I'm sure she can handle herself if that fool tries anything that she's not in agreement with."

"Yeah, you're right," Matthew mused, shaking his head. Victoria was right. Maria could take care of herself. So why the hell was he still so worried about her?

"_But_," Victoria said deviously, as she smiled at Matthew. "Since Maria's gone tonight, we can catch up. We haven't been together, like just us, in forever." She batted her long eyelashes at him as she traced a finger along his inner thigh.

"Yeah, I've missed it, just the two of us," Evan said letting out a deep breath. He really needed to stop worrying about Maria.

What he should be focusing on right now was Victoria, her smokin' bod, and the privacy and unlimited room service of their hotel room.

_________________________________________________________________________________

_**Okay Chapter two is up you guys! I'm not too pleased with it but I hope you guys don't get too bored. Hehe a surprise is on the way in chapter 3. well, not really a surprise but the next chapter is really crucial to the story at hand. I hope you guys enjoy! Please read and leave me some reviews (even if they're critisim just review it. I'd love to know how I can improve as an author)**_


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